White doves: Afghanistan through the lens of a girl's camera

"What led me to this journey was a desire to hold on to the beautiful memories from my childhood, despite the many changes I knew existed in Afghanistan over the years." (Photo courtesy of Firuze Sadik)

18-year-old photographer Firuze Sadik shares a series of photos she took of her home in rural Afghanistan. Firuze documents everything about life in Afghanistan — from how girls and women live their lives to how people continue to find joy despite Taliban rule — highlighting the importance of amplifying nuanced Afghan stories.

In the spring of 2013, when my family and I left our small town for the vast city of Istanbul, it felt like opening a completely new chapter in my life—like loading a fresh roll of film into my analog camera and embarking on a journey whose outcome I couldn’t predict. Every shot was a new experience for this little girl, and ten years later, that same little girl decided to fulfill one of her dreams by loading another roll of film and returning alone to Afghanistan to shoot a documentary film. What led me to this journey was a desire to hold on to the beautiful memories from my childhood, despite the many changes I knew existed in Afghanistan over the years. 

This journey would also be a confrontation for me; would I find the place I left behind as it once was? Would the fruits still taste as sweet? Was I ready to face what I had only read about and heard over the years? Everything had changed in those ten years. I had changed too, but holding on to pieces of the past within me made it difficult to accept what I saw at times. The regime had changed, and girls were no longer allowed to attend school. Many things had become more restrictive and challenging for women. From the moment I arrived, I felt this change with my every breath and tried to adapt to this new experience. Being back in the place where I was born was challenging, but leaving it behind in this state was much harder. Seeing girls my age unable to go to school and sensing the hopelessness in their questions upset me the most. Each time I noticed my anger in the situation, I tried to keep it in check by putting myself in their situation and doing my best to lift their spirits. Yet, despite my efforts, it was often them who found ways to make me laugh instead.

Despite all these challenges, when I think back on those small, priceless moments, I genuinely smile. During this journey, I turned my lens not just to black and white but to every color on the spectrum. 

Playing games with the children again and sharing laughter reminded me of the happiness I felt when looking at old photographs. Now, after washing the roll of film, the images remind me of how unique and beautiful every moment I lived truly was. As I look at the world through the lens of my camera, I see countless stories waiting to be told. Hidden places and times, just waiting to be discovered. Afghanistan was full of hidden stories. From the animals on the street to the bread sellers, everyone had something to teach me... Trying to see the world through their eyes, noticing their joy of sharing, gave me the courage to open my camera and load another roll of film. 

On my last day in Afghanistan, I met a little girl. She was just watching the street. "I love watching white doves," she told me. Together, we watched the white doves for hours. They were pure white and free. Just like that little girl. As I was leaving Afghanistan, the little girl who had once been terrified now felt stronger than ever while watching the doves. 

Thank you, little girl.

On the first day in Afghanistan, looking for white doves through the camera.

A man and his beasts. In Afghanistan, many families own small livestock and cattle, which hold significant economic value for them. While talking to a man who had lost ten of his sheep to theft, I could sense how difficult life had become for him.

Small boxes of fruits and vegetables inside a tent. Due to Afghanistan's climate, vegetables are not abundant, but the fruits always captivate me with their taste.

The taxis in Afghanistan are called "Rickshaw." Each driver decorates and colors their Rickshaw according to their tastes. They can be seen as styled with countless different patterns and colors. Sometimes, they are the source of income for large families.

A small fabric shop in the square of town. In Afghanistan, women mostly wear colorful and floral dresses. I always think they express their spirits through these fabrics. Although they are required to wear hijabs and cover their faces, the vibrant clothes they wear seem to reflect the souls they live with.

After a long conversation on the rooftop.

A Rickshaw working in the city center. Children have climbed on top of it while women are trying to negotiate prices.

A shop selling handmade ovens. Meals are always cooked in these large handmade ovens, and there's a size for everyone in this small shop.

 An evening where we saw everyone’s childhood selves in old wedding photographs.

The camera always seemed like a toy to the children. They would take the camera and start taking pictures.

Playing games with children in Afghanistan.

A roadside market. Being a woman alone on the street, shopping alone, and feeling fear—these were all very familiar emotions for Afghan women. Going to a market had never been this difficult.

A grandmother with her grandchildren. She told me how much she loves her grandchildren and how she missed her siblings, whom she had lost recently. She was crying when she was speaking to me. On my last day, she gifted me a colourful fabric to wear and said "don't forget to listen to your heart" as she bid farewell.